The Choices We Make
by Hope Lejeune
Summary: Reese reflects on the choices of the past and present.
1. Chapter 1

The Choices we Make

Fifteen years ago, my father Jack Reese set into motion events that would one day change his life, and mine, in ways that he would have never predicted. I wonder if given the chance, would he have done things differently? Would he have changed his mind, if he had the slightest of inklings what would transpire so many years in the future?

Was my father always the same heartless man that I remember from my childhood? Or did those events so many years ago change him into the man that he is today. Was he a good man and a good cop, at one point in his life? Where was the young, handsome man full of life that my mother had fallen in love so many year ago? The good cop that Lieutenant Davis remembered from so many years ago, her partner that she tries to defend even to this day?

I wonder how different my father, and my life. would have been if he hadn't embarked on the path that he chose all those years ago. Would I even be here right now, crouched in a dark abandoned building, cradling my bleeding partner, wondering how my life would have been different if my father had made another choice.

I glance down at the man that I hold on my lap. How would have his life turned out if my father had made another choice? Would I even know him today? Would he still be a beat cop like his former partner Stark? Or would he have quickly risen through the ranks, becoming a homicide detective with a gold shield, then becoming the youngest Captain to head the squad. Would he have been my boss? Would I have respected him? Or would he have pissed me off as much as he does in my reality now.

He moves slightly, moaning in pain. I brush his hair back off his face, my hand lingering on his brow. He quiets down, his breathing resuming a slower rhythm. Is he dreaming of what his life could have been if my father had made another choice? Of his blond-haired beautiful wife, once his high school sweetheart and the mother of his non-existent children. Does he dream of red-headed children, chasing each other around the lawn as their parents joke with each other around the barbeque while preparing supper.

He moans again. Glancing down, I see the pain that crosses his weary face and I know that in his nightmare my father hadn't made the right choice. There is no wife, no children, no suburbia. Only the harsh reality he had suffered through.

Fifteen years ago, when my father made his choice, I had never heard the name Charlie Crews. Why would I? I was just starting junior high, trying to fit in, to make some new friends because we had moved again and I was the new girl. Crews was just out of the police academy, riding a patrol car, trying to fit in. He had just gotten married, probably thought that they had a bright future together.

Twelve years ago I had never heard of the name of Charlie Crews. The year that he went into the Pelican Bay pen for a crime he didn't commit, I was your typical teenage girl, going to high school and living in my little plastic bubble. Well, maybe not so typical . How many teenagers had fathers who were commanders of SWAT teams? I didn't know any other teenage girls who had a father who got called out at all hours of the night to storm building looking for nut jobs holding people hostage. Or a worried mother that sat up all night waiting for a call to tell her that her husband would never be coming home.

Twelve years ago I was worried about pimples and if Bobby -what-ever-his-name-was would ask me to the prom. I remember agonizing about it for weeks, worrying about what to wear, what to say, how to dance, and whether I should go all the way (whatever that meant) if he kissed me. And worried about my father not allowing me to go because he didn't approve of Bobby.

Crews had other worries, like how to fight off his fellow inmates that had a hatred of all cops. While I was going to the prom, he was receiving his first beating that would land him in the infirmary and require the first of the 243 stitches that he would need in his stay there. While I was receiving my first kiss (and it didn't turn out to be the ultimate fantasy in kisses as I my teenage brain naively imagined), Crews was receiving his first dose of morphine for his first broken bone.

One year ago I first heard the name of Charlie Crews on the news when his case was reopened when his lawyer got a judge to re-examine the evidence that convicted him 12 years ago. I wish I could say that I felt some premonition that my life would change, that things would never be the same, when I heard his name for the first time. But there was no tinkling of bells from up high, no music playing, no grand epiphany, no A-ha moment. Just me running to throw up cause I was undergoing withdrawal symptoms. But then again, maybe that was my A-ha moment and I missed it. Who knows?

Four months later, Charlie Crews was a free man. And I do remember the moment I saw him, standing with his face turned up to the sun, like a flower that had been too long without the nourishing rays of the sun. His hair looked like a reddish-gold halo all around his head. Maybe if I my father had made another choice all those years ago, I would have thought that he was an angel, appearing before me as a premonition that my life would be forever changed from that moment on.

Unfortunately, that wasn't my A-ha moment either. All I felt was irritation that I was being saddled with Crews as a partner. I had screwed up big time on my first assignment. Becoming a junkie while trying to bust a narcotic ring is not the way to advance yourself through the ranks to Commissioner of Police. Being partnered with Crews was my punishment. A punishment that I had to endure if I was going to redeem myself, to prove to Lt. Davis and the brass that I was worthy of being part of the rank and file.

Charlie Crews didn't make it easy for me. His endless inane Zen chatter, his weird cheery behaviour and constant fruit snacking made it hard for me. I remember sitting on a couch with him once and telling him that I didn't understand him, nor did I like him.

But somewhere along the way he grew on me. I began to understand him. And to like him. When did that all that happen without me being aware of it? I'm not sure. Maybe it was the time I caught him changing his undershirt after we had fallen into a sewer. And I saw all the scars on his back before he was able to whip a sweat shirt over his head. Maybe it was all the times when he let me be in the lead when we were tracking down suspects. Most male partners always insist on going first, as if a woman isn't tough enough or strong enough to lead. But not Charlie. To him I was as tough as he was. Or maybe it was the time I looked into his blue eyes and saw the pain that was a reflection of my own.

My grip tightens around my partner as I fight back the tears that threaten to start. I refuse to give into the temptation. There would be time enough for them later on. Just like my father had made his choice so many years ago, I too have made my choice. And where would it lead me, I wonder?

I sit Zen-like, totally focused in the moment, with my gun beside me, waiting for the dawn to finally arrive, gently cradling my choice and feeling his warm breath on my arm.


	2. Chapter 2

-1**The Choices We Make**

Chapter 2 -The Many Sides of Charlie Crews

Time is a funny thing. It has the ability to either speed up or slow down. Now, as any scientist will tell you, that's impossible, unless you are near a black hole. Time is supposedly a constant quantity. One second at any time is still 1/60 of a minute. It doesn't matter if you're having the best time of your life or the worse. But as everyone knows, the 1 second you spend in the dentist chair is much long than the 1 second you spend laughing with your best friend.

Sitting in the dark, with Charlie passed out in my lap, every second seemed to last an hour. I tried to do the math - 1 minute was 60 seconds and 60 minutes was 1 hour, so how many seconds were there in an hour? Was that 6000? No, I had to multiply 60 times 60, so that was ….. I gave up.

Before I met Charlie Crews it never occurred to me to wonder how many seconds there were in an hour. But now I find myself wondering about a lot of things I never thought about. Like the choices that my father made 15 years ago. The choice he's making now.

Charlie mumbles in his sleep, words so soft that I don't catch them. His face is turned to the side, my lap hiding the dark bruise that is beginning to form on the left. I gently trace the bridge of the eye brow, along his cheekbone. The moon must have come out because there's enough moonlight coming in through a grimy window for me to see the paleness of his face. A face that hides many sides, many personalities.

Who was the real Charlie Crews, I wondered? Suddenly, I wish I had known him, before my father had made the decision that had led us all here 15 years later. Had he been naively idealistic about police work? Was he as wacky then as he was now? Did he get angry as quickly then as he does now? Was he able to switch off and on his emotions then as he does now? Would I have liked the young Charlie?

But if I had met Charlie 15 years ago, I would have been 12. He would have probably patted my head and bought me an ice cream. Or probably a fruit cup. Would I have been able to see him then like I do now? Would I have seen all the sides of his personality as I do now. Would all of those sides existed as they do now? Or are they a product of all the hardships he's gone through? I don't know.

The first side of Charlie Crews that I saw was his wacky one. Sprouting all that Zen-Buddhism crap did not endure him to me. I didn't understand his behaviour when we first became partners. Everything out of his mouth sounded like pure drivel to me. What the hell did "You don't have to understand here to be here." mean? I'm still not too sure what it means, although I think I have a better idea now then I did then.

And all that nonsense about "I'm in motion, so I'm not really here, even though I could be here." or something to that effect. He drove me crazy with that one. I remember driving away from the professor's house and Charlie raving non-stop about all the things he saw on the drive back, "The car..not here. That bus… not here. That girl… not here but too bad.." He drove me insane with his babbling until I was ready to take out my gun and shoot him.

But of course I didn't shoot him. I just glared at him, wishing he'd shut up. There has been countless moments like that since we met, me wanting to shoot Charlie when he's having one of his Zen moments.

The memory makes me smile down at my sleeping partner. We had come a long way since then. With time, he has cut down somewhat with the Zen riddles. Or maybe I have come to understand that he uses them as a way of dealing with difficult situations. Or maybe its because I've read a couple of Zen books and can come up with my own pithy Zen comments when he starts.

I remember the time after an annoying interrogation with a smart ass witness when I lost my cool, he started in with the Zenisms. "Live everyday like your hair is on fire.." he started.

Well, that did it. "Well, its better to sit all night than go to bed with a dragon!" I snapped back.

The look of astonishment on his face was priceless. Then his face had lit up with his patented-Charlie smile, the one that sometimes leaves me breathless because of its glowing brilliance. "Reese," he crooned "You've been seeking enlightenment, haven't you?"

"There is no beginning to practice nor end to enlightenment." I retorted briskly, going out the door, leaving my partner momentarily speechless. Reese Zenisms: 2, Crews:1. Priceless!

The second side of Charlie Crews that I remember seeing was the serious-cop side. I guess after experiencing the wacky and goofy side of him, it took me by surprise by just how fast he could make the switch. One second he'd be this joking, goofy guy blabbering on about the silliest of things. And then, bam! At the first hint of danger, out would come this deadly-serious side. Lethal, in fact.

In retrospect, I guess its not that surprising. He learned the hard way in prison. I can only image, and then barely, how tough it must have been for him in there. There was no one to protect him. Danger was all around him. He had plenty of opportunities to practice, to develop his speed. If there were Olympic games for cops-turned-convicts, then Charlie Crews would get a gold medal for survival.

I'm not surprised any more when my partner goes from acting like a clown to striking like a cobra in the space of a heart beat. Instead I'm thankful for it. It's what every cop wishes they had - a partner who can watch your back.

The third side of Charlie Crews I remember seeing was the anger side, That wasn't a surprise. I'm use to cops with anger issues. It seems to run in my family. My father seems to be perpetually angry. And many things seem to piss me off, including my Dad. And Charlie, at the beginning.

For a cop who had been imprisoned unjustly for 12 years, the surprise would have been if Charlie didn't have any anger inside of him waiting to get out. The big surprise for me was that he showed so little anger at first. He seemed so goofy, with the silly Zen sayings, the wide-eye wonderment for so many little ordinary things in life and the never-ending fascination with every fruit he came in contact with. All those things masked the anger that was just underneath the surface.

The first time I witnessed his anger, it came out in a heart beat. We had gone to Pelican Bay pen, to talk to the father of the young boy who was killed. He didn't look uptight, as far as I could see. But with Charlie Crews, looks are deceptive. When the prison guards who were escorting us started to taunt him, the anger came boiling out. He looked ready to rip their heads off. I stepped in quickly to break it up. Luckily, he backed off.

And he's backed off the other times also. The anger seems to recede as fast as it comes on. I know him better now. There's a slight twitching of his facial muscles before the anger comes boiling out of him. I've learned to read the signs and to step in when necessary, which is not too often. And the anger is provoked, usually by assholes, and there's usually a good reason for it. He's not the type of man who gets angry for no reason, like my father.

The fourth side of Charlie Crews that I saw was his compassionate side. I guess I'm not use to seeing much compassion from my fellow police officers. We always seem to see the seedier side of life. Maybe if you're on the job too long, the compassion is burnt out of you.

I don't remember my father or his SWAT buddies showing too much compassion for anyone, including the victims of the crimes. They were there to do a job and they did it, efficiently and as quickly as they could. I guess having feelings could slow you down, get in the way of the doing the job. Maybe my father's buddies showed compassion at home. I don't know. My father certainly didn't. He believed, and still does, that you have to be tough all the time. Show any compassion, and you're a weakling.

Charlie doesn't seem to believe that there's any weakness in showing compassion. He fairly oozes compassion , usually when dealing with a victim or their family. The first time I saw it happen, he went from his clowning personality to this incredibly compassionate listener in a heart beat. Sort of the reverse of his clown/deadly-serious side.

We were interviewing the mother of a missing teen gang-member. I had been doing the questioning and wasn't getting anywhere. I found the woman irritating, uptight and annoying as hell with her insistence that her son wasn't in trouble, that he was a good boy, and so on. She wasn't giving us the information we needed. Talk about a woman in denial!

Charlie must have sensed I was getting pissed off because he took over the interview. He sat down beside her, took her hand, turned those soulful blue eyes of his on her, and that's all it took. She was sobbing on his shoulder in no time, giving us all the information we needed to find her delinquent son. I gave him a ribbing afterwards, implying that he had conned her with his put-on sympathy act. He looked at me reproachfully. "I wasn't acting, Reese." he chided me in a soft tone. " I felt bad for the woman. She loves her son and has tried to do her best." As he walked away, I realized that he wasn't bullshitting me. He had felt sympathy for the woman.

The next side of Charlie Crews that I saw was the womanizing side. At first I didn't realize it, but Charlie was a chick magnet. Everywhere we went, there was always some nubile young thing (usually blond) that would be smiling seductively at him, batting her eyelashes provocatively at him, flirting with him and leaving their cell numbers tucked in his jacket pocket. And off course, Charlie would flirt back. Until a death glare from me got him back on track with the police work.

It didn't really strike me how women saw Charlie until his lawyer, Constance (call me Connie) came waltzing into the police station that time dressed in 6 inches screw-me-heels and in that little champagne clingy number to "talk" with him. Now, a woman doesn't dress like that unless she wants a certain man to start drooling over her. Here was this hard-hitting, successful lawyer who had gotten him sprung from prison, and she came in looking like a Victoria Secrets model looking to get laid. What the hell was she thinking of coming into the station looking like that And her a married woman. But that's the effect that Charlie has women.

I think I must have realized that Charlie was an attractive man all along. But I didn't see it at the beginning because he really annoyed me. And I knew that the only reason that I was assigned to work with him, when no one else would, was because I had royally screwed up. Working with him was my punishment. And it coloured my perception of him, big time, at the beginning of our partnership.

And it probably had something to do with the fact that I never really thought red-headed men with fair skin and freckles were all that attractive. They just weren't my type. I guess I lean more to the tall, dark, handsome boring Prince Charming variety. That weren't goofy, or compassionate, or Zen-quoting.

But who am I to be judging Charlie? He's not married, nor committed to any one woman. After all that time in prison, he's entitled to take his pleasure where he can get it. He probably likes all the women he beds, and remembers their names the next morning. I wish I could say the same thing. Most of the men I end up in bed with, I don't even know their names, never mind liking them. The only thing I like about them is the sex. How mentally healthy is that? I've replaced one addiction with another. Out of the two of us, Charlie is probably the healthier one.

Sighing, I look down at my sleeping partner. I pray, to a God that I haven't prayed to since childhood, that we get out of here alive so that I can get to see the other sides of him, the sides he keeps hidden.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Choices We Make**

Chapter 3 - Angel of the Morning

Sharp claws reach out for him in the dark. He runs knowing devil is behind him. His heart is pounding until he thinks it might explode. Faster and faster he runs. He feels the claws tearing into his side, gouging out chunks of his face. Pain laces through him, causing him to choke and stumble, falling to his knees. The beast is upon him, clawing at him, slashing him with razor-sharp nails. He cries out in pain.

"Shhh. Its alright, Charlie." a soft voice whispers above him. "You're safe. I've got you." Warm hands cradle him, softness cushions his fall.

He snaps awake, trying to shake off the fear. Pain claws the right side of his body. His breathing comes out in shuddering gasps, He shakes with pain, trying to come to terms with it. Rocking back and forth, he pushes it down until he is able to slow his breathing down. All the while, strong, gentle arms hold him, comfort him, speaking soft, soothing words until he feels the world right itself.

Slowly, he opens his eyes and squints up, trying to see her face. In the gray, early light he can just make out her sharp, shapely brows and the long, dark hair cascading around her face. His memory supplies the rest of her features.

"Am I in heaven, Reese?" he questions, shifting slowly around until he is lying looking up at her. It hurts like hell but in the end it's worth it, seeing that lovely face. "Are you my Angel of the Morning, sent to look out for me?" A smile slowly lights up his face as she peers down at him, obviously worried that he's delirious.

"I think I must be in heaven 'cause there's an Angel holding me to her heavenly bosom, " he continues in a happy tone. He wiggles deeper into her, not paying attention to the pain anymore. "If I had known that a gun shot wound would get you holding me to your lovely bosom, I would have managed to get myself shot much sooner!"

His partner looks down at him with a decidedly un-angelic look before she abruptly slides out from underneath him. She quickly gets to her feet, picking up her gun and twirling around to glare at him.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" she practically hisses at him. "One minute you're acting like you're on death's door, and now you're this grinning idiot. There's someone out there who tried to kill us last night. He could still be out there, for all we know." She stands up, glaring down at him.

"Things are not what they appear to be; nor are they otherwise. Okay, not heaven!" he tries to sit up but feels the room starting to spin." I think I'm going to pass out, Reese." He slumps down again.

Quickly, he feels her beside him, sighing softly and propping him up. Warm arms enfold him and hold him up. He feels a smile threatening to burst from his lips but holds it in. She's still unhappy with him.

"Do not pursue the past. Do not lose yourself in the future." he starts, trying to explain her how he feels. "The past no longer is. The future is yet to come." That wasn't exactly what he wanted to say.

She gives him a look, its her "What the hell is he rambling on about look?" but doesn't say much as she proceeds to pull his shirt up around his waist, trying to examine him. He tries to push away her hands but she just ignores him, checking out his wound.

"You're lucky, Crews." she finally finishes poking at him. "It barely grazed you. You'll live another day to drive me crazy." She rearranges his shirt, tucking it in and then her warm hands leave his body. He misses the contact. Please hold me again, he wants to ask but something stops him. They sit in silence.

She breaks the silence first. "So if the past isn't important, why the hell are you pursuing this?' She looks at him, her brown eyes angry. "You already found the man who killed your friends, the man who should have gone to jail instead of you. You've cleared your name."

"Yes, yes, I did."

"So why won't you…LET…IT…GO?" she practically shouts the last part at him. "Why are you trying to get yourself killed?"

He looks at her carefully, noticing her tired eyes and dishevelled appearance. There are streaks on her face, had she been crying while he'd been asleep? There was a streak of blood on the side of her face. His? He lifts his hand, to clean it off. She flinches and pulls away, glaring at him as she moves away from him.

Suddenly, the pain in his side disappears as a new pain stabs his heart. He has put her in the middle of things. Whatever happens, she is now involved. Because of his need for revenge, he has put her into danger. And she doesn't deserve it.

"Reese, I'm sorry." He leans over and takes her hand. She tries to pull it away but he won't let go. He leans over to look at her. She won't look at him, just keeps looking down at her knees. "Reese, just look at me, please. Please?"

Even though she won't look at him, he starts to talk, trying to put his feeling into words, trying to make her understand. "I am trying to live in the moment, as the Buddha advised, Reese. But its so hard…. to let go of the past. When I was in prison, revenge was all I had to keep me going, to keep me sane. All I could think of was somehow getting out and finding the man who killed my friends, the man who had put me in hell. And when I found him, I was going to kill him, Reese. I was going to kill him in oh so many different ways."

His voice dies to a whisper. "You won't believe how many ways there are to kill someone, Reese. But I think I imagined them all. And in each one, he suffered, just like the way I was suffering."

He looks up to find her eyes locked on his, the anger replaced by pain. Taking a deep breath he continues, afraid that if he stops, he wouldn't be able to get out what he needs to say to her. "When I left you looking for that gun in the marijuana plants, I went to Hollis's house. I went there to kill him."

Afraid to now look her in the eyes, he keeps talking. "I was going to kill him in cold blood. Like he did my friends. I was going to kill him and not blink an eye as I did it. I was going to…"

"I don't believe you." Reese suddenly cuts in. His eyes snap up to hers, blinking at her statement. "I don't think you would have done it, Crews. You're not a killer." she continues in a tone that refuses to believe the worse about him.

"Try telling that to the two guys that I killed in that shoot-out, Reese."

"You didn't kill them in cold-blood, Crews. They would have killed you if you hadn't shot them first." she counters.

"I would have killed Hollis if he'd been there."

"No, you wouldn't have. "

"Oh yes, I would've!"

"No, you wouldn't have," Reese snaps. 'I've had enough of this stupid argument. You had plenty of chances to kill him later on. But yet he's still alive. And he's confessed to killing your friends. He'll serve time. But yet you can't let go of the past. Why, Crews? Why can't you let go?"

It was his turn to look away, to look down, to refuse to look her in the eye. Instead he stares at the floor as if it contains the secrets of the universe.

"Okay, I'll tell you why you won't let go of the past." Reese is determined to speak her mind. "Because even though Hollis is the one who killed your friends, he isn't the one that framed you."

Crews eyes flick up. How the hell does she know that? The surprise must have showed in his face because Reese snorts in exasperation. "You're not the only one who's a detective around here, Crews! I don't have to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out that you're looking for the men who set you up to take the fall. And that you believe that one of them is my father."

Crews feels his heart skip a couple of beats. Her tone is so matter-of-fact that she might have been talking about ordering a cheeseburger, double order of fries. And a large Coke, to go.

"How do you know about your father being involved?" he croaks, licking his dry lips.

"Oh for Pete's sake! My father storming into the station, the two of you arguing in the Lieutenant's office. Not to mention the fact that he's on my case every chance he can get, warning me off you. How stupid do you think I am?"

"I've never thought you were stupid." he starts to protest weakly. "If there's one thing I know about you, Reese …"

"Oh shut up, Crews!" she cuts him off ."And then there's the murder wall in your house."

He feels his jaw drop. "How do you…."

"You really need to lock your doors, Crews. Do you really think I'm so dense that I don't notice things. Like that weird look you get when things click in your head. Or you disappearing at odd times. And things happening after that." She shakes her head in disgust for his stupidity. "I knew you were up to something. I just didn't know what. So I made it my job to find out. And imagine to my surprise, there's a picture of me up on your murder wall."

"I didn't think you were .."

" in on it? Involved? The ringleader? Part of the conspiracy?"

Reese's sarcasm is hard to miss. Crews bows his head, exhaling deeply. His head hurts and the pain in his side has returned. .

"We're supposed to be partners, Crews," he hears her continue, her voice thick with emotion. "Partners watch each other's backs. They trust each other. I was 12 years old when that bank was robbed. Fifteen when you were sent up to Pelican Bay. How could you think I was involved in any of that?"

"I don't think you were."

"So why was my picture up on the wall, Crews?"

He can hear the hurt in her voice, and something else, an emotion he can't define. He doesn't know what it is but he knows that a wrong answer can end the fragile trust they have built up over the last 6 months. Charlie realizes that he needs her trust and her partnership desperately, more than she probably needs his. In the last few months, since he had gotten out of prison, he has managed to rebuild his life to the point where there is a balance in it once more. And she has become a big part of the balance. She keeps him in check at work, keeps him from flying off the precipice when his reckless anger gets out of hand.

"I know you're not involved in all of this," he admits slowly, trying to choose the correct words, afraid to make a mistake that would cost him dearly. "Whatever all of this is. I just put your picture up because that's what I needed to do, to see all the pieces of the puzzle, to try to figure things out. I felt you were connected to it somehow, I just felt it. But I didn't know how until .."

"Until you met my father, " she slowly finishes up the sentence. "The SWAT team leader who was a friend of Ames, the detective that railroaded you into prison."

Dark eyes steadily stare at him, trying to decide whether or not he was worthy of forgiveness, making him squirm inside. He lets out a breath, when she briskly nods , as though she has come to a decision. She springs to her feet. A moment later, she's pulling him off the floor.

"Come on, Crews," she orders, her tone brisk and no-nonsense. "We need to figure out if the shooter is still out there and how the hell we're going to get ourselves out of here."

She's tugging him towards the door, gun at the ready, when the sound of vehicles outside alert them to the fact they weren't alone anymore. "Back, we need to hide." she hisses, trying to push him behind some crates. "They've come back to finish the job."

"Its okay, Reese," he says, refusing to budge. "I recognize the sounds. It's the picking crew, ready to start work. We're okay. We can get back to town now."

She's still trying to move him when the side door opens up and a dozen or so men come streaming in. They stop suddenly when they see the couple standing there, holding each other up. A gray-haired older man comes forward.

"Hola, Senor Crews," he greets them with surprise on his face. "What are you doing here so early?"

"Hola, Senor Ramirez," Crews replies calmly. "We kind of got stuck here last night. Do you mind if we borrow one of the trucks? I'll send it back in a few hours."

"No, Senor. Here are the keys. Are you alright? You don't look too good, Senor."

"I've had better nights," Crews agrees. "Come on, Reese, time to go home."

He started to shuffle out but Reese hand stops him. "Where are we?" she asks, looking around.

"Its one of my orange orchards."

"You were bringing me out to see oranges in the middle of the night, Crews?" her voice is full of disbelief.

" I wanted to show you how beautiful oranges look in the moonlight." he answers truthfully. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Now he just wants to go home, lie down and swallow a dozen painkillers.

But she won't budge. He turns back to look at her. She's giving him the patented Dani Reese look, the one that says she thinks he's crazy. But at least there is still trust in those eyes. He can live with the crazy look if there is trust he decides and smiles.

"How do you know that they're not out there, waiting to pick us off?" she wants to know.

"I think there was only one shooter, and it was just a warning. If they wanted us dead, we'd be dead by now."

"Do you think it was my father?"

"No," Crews replies, walking out into the open. "Your father is a sniper who can take out anyone he wants from 5000 feet. I'm sure he'd like to kill me but he won't do it with his daughter standing right next to me."

"Are you sure?" she asks, her voice cynical, as she walks out beside him.

He suddenly turns to look her in the eyes. "I haven't told you everything, Reese," Charlie begins slowly, needing to be completely honest with her.

She faces him, unflinchingly, serious brown eyes locked onto his blue ones. "What a surprise!" But she didn't sound angry when she says it. "Come on, Crews. You need to have your side tended to and I need a coffee, and a hot bath, in that order. You can tell me everything when we get back home."

Together, they walk out to the pickup. She holds up her hand for the keys. "I'm driving, Crews." He hands his partner the keys, sliding wearily into the seat and resting his head back on the seat as he let her drive them back to town.

_Just call me Angel of the Morning, darling_

_Just hold my hand before you leave me, baby…_


	4. Chapter 4

**The Choices We Make**

Chapter 4 -New Year's Eve Blues

All dressed up and nowhere to go, Dani Reese thought to herself, sighing as she lay on her couch channel surfing. What was it about New Year's Eve that made being alone so hard to bear, when being alone on other nights was tolerable? Was it because everyone else around her had somewhere else to be, someone to share it with? And who did she have to share it with? Not even a coach roach!

Sure, she could have gone over to her friend Sara's place to her party. Her friend had called and left messages for her to come over, there would be this guy she wanted her to meet, wear that sexy little midnight-blue number, Dani would love him, he was an architect, blah, blah, blah.

Somehow, Dani doubted it. Lately, when she talked to Sara, she had come to the realization that they had nothing in common now. It had been different once, a long time ago when they had been in college. They had been close, as close as sisters, sharing everything-classes, clothes, even boyfriends. They'd had so much fun together. Life had seemed so promising then. Feeling nostalgic, Dani wished that things could have stayed that way forever.

But nothing stays the same. Her friend was the same person as she always had been but somewhere along the way Dani found she had changed. Sara was still the same, happy, optimistic, enthusiastic person from 10 years ago. Happy with her job and life. Happy with herself. Unlike me, Dani thought. She envied her friend.

She could have gone to the New Year's Eve party that some of the guys at the station were organizing. But she didn't feel like doing that either. There would be too much booze flowing, too much male testosterone, too many stories of past events she didn't want to hear about. It was bad enough having to work with those guys, but spending the last day of the year with them would have been pathetic.

She could have gone bar hopping. Chances were good that she could have picked up a not too bad-looking young, horny guy for the night. They could have gotten drunk, ended up at his place for some mindless sex. It would have filled the hours, taken her mind off how pathetic and lonely her life was as aother new year started.

So she lay on the couch, feeling sorry for herself. Wishing that she was somewhere else. Wishing that she was someone else. Wondering what her partner was doing this New Year's Eve. She was certain he wasn't lying on the couch, being pathetic. He was probably with some good-looking women at some wild party, enjoying himself, flirting, dancing, and kissing them. He was such a chick magnet, attracting women to him like bees to honey.

Or, more likely he was with the woman who was responsible for giving him his life back, his lawyer. She imagined Constance dressed in a short (extremely short), clingy black number while Charlie was in his black suit, the one that made his red hair shine and his pale features appear almost handsome. They were in a fancy restaurant, sipping champagne, eating caviar and sharing an intimate moment. Later, they would head back to Charlie's palatial residence, laughingly head up the stairs, arms entwined around one another and ….

The ringing of her cell phone almost caused her to fall off the couch, startling her from her fantasy about her partner. Annoyed, she groped around the couch for the offending phone.

"What?" she snapped into it.

"And a Happy New Year's Eve to you too, Reese," said the cheerful voice of the man occupying her thoughts. Her heart skipped a beat then began to race. She struggled to control it.

She hadn't seen much of him in the last week, since they had had come back from their night spent in the orange grove after a shooter had taken a couple of shots at them, grazing Charlie in the side. He had taken a couple of days off after the shooting to recuperate while she had been busy with paper work and a court case. They hadn't been assigned any new cases.

Nor did they have "the talk", the one where he was going to tell her "everything" and she was doubtful if they would. He seemed to have retreated into himself which was more than alright with her.

After last week, she had began to doubt her ability to keep her work and personal relationships separate. In the past, she had made a serious mistake when she had gone undercover. Her addiction had almost cost her good health and her job. She wasn't going to jeopardize her career by becoming emotionally attached to her partner. An addiction to Charlie Crews wasn't something she would get over, she suspected.

"Reese, you still there?" her partner's voice called over the phone. "What are you doing?"

"Getting ready to go out to a party, Crews," she told him the first lie that sprung to mind. "What do you want?"

"Just wanted to wish you a Happy New Year, Reese," he replied. "Have a good time tonight at your party."

"Thanks. Got to go, my date is here," she lied again. "Happy New Year, Crews." Quickly she hung up the phone, feeling rotten. That was so immature. Why had she said that? He sounded like he wanted to talk and she had brushed him off. He didn't sound like he was with anyone at a wild party. Nor with Constance. Why had she hung up? Stupid, stupid, stupid!

The front doorbell rang, startling her. Who the hell was that? No one was supposed to show up. Oh yeah, she had ordered pizza. Duh, the pizza delivery guy. Getting up, she found her wallet lying on top of the coffee table and walked over to the front door. Not bothering to look through the eyehole she opened the front door and stood staring speechless.

Charlie Crews stood on her front stoop, holding his cell phone and a bottle of something in his left hand while a pizza box was in his right. His eyes travelled over her startled face, down her ripped college sweatshirt, over her old, too-tight yoga pants (leftovers from a class she had taken years ago) and onto her fuzzy, bunny slippers with the big floppy years. A big grin transformed his face.

"Why Reese," he crooned in delight. "You didn't have to dress up for your pizza delivery date."

He walked into her house, ignoring her sputtered "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I was in the neighbourhood," he began, heading for the kitchen. "And thought I'd drop in. Where do you keep the plates? And glasses. I brought over some sparking apple cider, non-alcoholic. Made it myself." He began poking around in her cupboards when she didn't answer. "Ah, here they are. How many slices of pizza do you want?"

Taking the plates and some glasses, he headed off for the living room. As if in a daze, she followed him and sat down on the couch with him, took a plate with pizza on it and started to chew.

"Hey, this is great pizza," her partner exclaimed, chewing away with gusto. "I wonder if they would deliver over to my side of the city?"

Reese slowly nibbled on her piece, watching him attacking his slices. He was dressed casually, not in his usual suit. A soft-looking charcoal shirt, silk maybe, and a pair of jeans along with a dark pair of running shoes made up his outfit for the night. She wasn't use to him looking like this. It made him seem younger somehow.

He looked up from eating, noticed her watching him. "You must like pizza a lot," he joked. "Do you usually order a large one just for yourself?"

She ignored his question, asking him a question instead. "Why are you here, Crews?" she demanded. "Why aren't you out celebrating your first New Year's Eve of freedom with a friend? With Constance?"

"She's in New York, celebrating with her husband." Blue eyes stared steadily at her.

"Oh." That silenced her for a moment. Then she rallied with "Where's Ted?"

"He likes to go to bed early. Said it will still be New Year's tomorrow." He continued on with his pizza eating, still watching her picking at her slice.

"Then why aren't you out at some wild party?" she asked. _With some hot young babes that you seem to always attract? _she silently continued.

"I was," he answered, looking up, piercing her with his bright blue eyes, looking like he could hear her thoughts. A sudden wry smile appeared on his lips. "But the party wasn't as exciting as I thought."

"Oh. " Silence descended. She didn't know what to say. Well, yes she did. She really wanted to ask him why he was at her house. But she was too afraid of the answer.

"So, Reese," he switched the conversation. "Why aren't **you** at some wild New Year's Eve party like you said you were going to?"

The heat rose up her cheeks as she remembered how she had lied to him. Briefly, she thought about lying to him again but gave it up. "I didn't want you to think I was pathetic being here by myself." she muttered, looking down at her empty plate.

"I would never think you're pathetic, Reese," His statement had her looking up again. The blue eyes hypnotized her. She couldn't look away.

"You know what I missed about New Year's Eve while I was in prison, Reese?" he casually continued, blue eyes still boring into hers. If he didn't stop, she thought, he'd drill a hole through her. "Well besides the champagne, loud music, the dancing and the …. midnight kiss."

At the mention of kissing, Reese's heart started to race again. Against her will, her eyes locked onto his lips. Those pink, bow-shaped kissable lips with the little indentation in the bottom one. She wondered what they'd taste like, what they'd feel like, what they'd….

She blinked at the loud noise as the TV came on. Crews had picked up the remote and was starting to surf through the channels, looking for one in particular.

"Ah, here's what I missed," he informed her happily. "The New Year's Eve countdown from Time Square." He settled himself comfortably beside her on the couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table. "I always loved watching Dick Clark counting down the minutes waiting for the ball to drop."

Speechless, Dani looked at Crews' profile. He was smiling, watching the crowd milling about in New York, quite happy with events. Dani started to laugh. Suddenly, her New Year's Eve didn't seem so bad. She wasn't alone anymore; she was sharing her New Year's Eve with her partner. Life didn't seem too sad or pathetic anymore. It was suddenly perfect. The realization made her smile.

"You know the second thing I missed, Reese," Crews voice softly broke into her thoughts, "was the midnight kiss."

She looked up to find his eyes focused on her lips. Her heart began to race again as they stared at one another……..

Suddenly, both their cell phones began ringing.

Happy New Year everyone! All the best for 2008.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Choices We Make**

Chapter 5 - A Dinner Invitation

A week had gone by since New Year's Eve. Dani Reese walked into the squad room with the paper work she had finished photocopying for her files. A week since they had been called out to investigate a homicide/suicide of a yuppie couple that had turned out to be a double murder committed by the woman's boyfriend when she had informed him that she was going back to her husband. A week since her partner had dropped by her place to watch the New Year's Eve celebration in Time Square. A week since he had stared at her lips after telling her how much he missed having New Year's Eve kisses while he had been in prison. A week of nothing else happening.

Dani sighed as she saw her red-haired partner seated at her desk on the phone, talking enthusiastically with someone, smiling and nodding. Inwardly she sighed, wondering which gorgeous blond he was talking to now. To her horror, as she neared her desk she heard him say "We'll be there on time, Mrs. Reese. I'll be sure to tell Dani. Goodbye."

She lunged for the phone as he tried to hang up. "Mother? Mother?" she called but all she could hear was the dial tone.

She whipped back to Crews. "Why were you talking to my mother?" Reese demanded as she glared at him, wanting to wack him over the head with the phone.

Crews smiled that annoying little smile that usually had her wanting to shoot him with her service revolver. "Your mother sounds like a really sweet person," he happily told her. "She wanted me to remind you about having dinner at home tonight."

"I don't want to have dinner with my parents," she angrily told him. "Tonight or any night soon."

"Oh, that's too bad," he turned back to his desk." She invited me also. I told her we'll be there at 6:30."

"What?"

"I hope you don't mind if I go, Reese. Its not too often I get a nice, home-cooked meal," Crews gave her his sad puppy look. "Ted can't cook."

"What part of not wanting to have dinner with my parents don't you understand?" she demanded as she glared at him, fists clenched and holding herself back from reaching for her gun.

"The Buddha said "A family is a place where minds live with other minds. If these minds love one another then the home will be as beautiful as a flower garden." Crews recited another one of his favourite sayings.

Dani's look could have burned the flesh off lesser men but Crews wasn't even singed. "This is coming from the man who's been avoiding his father like the plague?" Her tone was incredulous.

He ignored her last comment. "I'm looking forward to meeting your mother. She sounds very curious about our partnership. I guess you haven't told her much about me?" Crews continued unfazed, cocking his head to one side, pining her with that look. The one that tried to strip away all the layers around her core.

Suddenly, she was angry at him for trying to involve her mother in the middle of his need for vengeance. "Keep my mother out of this, Crews," she almost growled, throwing the file down on her desk. She grabbed her jacket, stalking out of the room, ignoring the looks she was getting from fellow officers.

She had almost made it to the elevator when a firm hand grabbed her elbow, forcing her to come to a dead stop. Raising her other hand, she pivoted around preparing to strike out. But he was faster, grabbing her other hand, forcing it down, holding her in place just inches away from him. She could feel the heat radiating between them.

"Why are you so mad, Reese?" he asked softly, looking down as she glared up at him. "Its just dinner. She really did invite me. "

"I know what you're up to, Crews." And she did know what had motivated him to accept. It was his need to go after her father, to get at the truth about why he had been framed for murders he hadn't committed. "I don't care if you go after my father but leave my mother out of it. She had nothing to do with what happened to you." She stood motionless, brown eyes almost pleading with him not to hurt her mother.

"Reese, I won't hurt your mother," he promised. "I just wanted to meet her. I enjoyed talking to her on the phone."

A couple of uniforms walked by them, giving the arguing couple a curious glance. Crews ignored them. Reese didn't as it suddenly dawned on her how much gossip about them would soon be spreading through the station. "Let go of me," she hissed, trying to shake her partner's hands off. "We're drawing attention here."

Crews shrugged, dropping his hands. "I'm sorry, Reese. I really didn't have an ulterior motive for accepting your mother's invitation."

Reese snorted. The look she gave him said she didn't believe him. He shrugged, raising his hands in surrender. "Well, maybe there was a slight motive," he admitted slowly, looking slightly guilty now. "Okay, I was curious about meeting your mom, seeing where the other half of your genes come from."

She still didn't look like she believed him completely. "Okay and I wanted to yank your Dad's chain a bit, try to get a rise out of him." he admitted. "I wanted to see him squirm when he saw me at the dinner table. "

They stood looking at each other, Reese trying to judge if he was telling her the truth. With Crews, sometimes she could never tell where the truth started or ended. Of even if it was the truth. She stared into his eyes, searching if she could see the truth there. He didn't flinch, meeting her stare with one of his own.

"Okay," she finally decided. "But if you do anything to hurt my mother, I'll make your life miserable." She reached up and prodded him in the chest. "**You****'****ll** be asking for a new partner!"

Satisfied that he understood her, she marched away, leaving Crews standing there, admiring her retreating backside. Somehow, he didn't doubt that she meant it.


	6. Chapter 6

**The Choices We Make**

Chapter 6 - Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?

At 6:25 they were parked outside the Reese residence, the same little bungalow that Charlie had last seen when he had left an envelope with a picture inside Jack Reese's newspaper. He opened his door, about to get out when a determined small hand grabbed his elbow, holding him in place. Turning around, he was pinned down by a pair of dark, threatening eyes.

"Remember, Crews," his partner warned him. "You're here at my mother's invitation, don't screw around with her. My father is fair game, she's not!" Her look threatened torture if he disobeyed. He decided that he wouldn't mess with his partner; Crews still remembered the 5,000 volts of electricity that had gone through his body when she had stuck an electric prod into the swimming pool where he and the groom they had suspected of murdering his wife were grappling with one another. She had meant business then, she meant business now.

They walked around to the side of the house, past an old parked boat and around to the back of the house. A large wooden deck, almost the same length as the house, had been built on the back overlooking a large-sized lawn. A patio set with an umbrella and 4 reclining padded seats sat in the middle of the deck. Wooden seats had been built onto the edge of the deck, interspersed with flower boxes from where a riot of bright flowering plants hung. A huge barbeque sat at one end of the deck, meat frying on top. A pleasant smell wafted from it. Steps lead down to a small kidney shaped swimming pool. Past the pool was the start of a large overgrown garden. Crews could make out several large, yellow sunflower plants competing with what looked like equally tall tomatoes plants. A high wooden fence behind the garden separated the property from the neighbours.

"Wow, neat place," Crews observed. "Did you grow up here?"

His partner nodded, pushing the sliding doors open. "Mom, we're here." she called as she went in. He followed her into large-sized kitchen area. There was a huge island in the middle of the room with a built in stove on one side, a work area in the middle and sink on the other side. On the back wall, behind the island, an oven was built in to the wall. A matching stainless steel fridge, recessed in the wall, shared space with the oven. To the left, he could see the dining room with a wooden table and 6 chairs around it. To the right, he could see the living room with couches and a huge TV. All the walls were painted in vibrant hues of peach, red and gold. The house seemed much larger on the inside than from the outside. It wasn't quite what he had expected.

Neither was the dark-haired, attractive woman who had turned from looking for spices in the pantry. She could have passed as Reese's older sister with the same dark, good looks and figure. He estimated her age at early forties but knew that couldn't be right. His partner was almost 30; her mother had to be in her 50's or close to it. He realized that this is what a mature Reese would look like in 20 years. Sneaking a quick look sideways at his partner, he thought it would look good on her.

Glancing back, he found Reese's mother looking him over with an assessing look in her dark, brown eyes. Charlie found himself being sized up and judged. It was a disconcerting feeling. He wondered if she knew more about him then she let on. Beside him he felt Reese starting to tense up as the silence stretched out. Starting to feel slightly discombobulated, he found himself relaxing when she suddenly smiled at him. The smile transformed her face, making her look like her daughter. If her daughter would smile more.

Turning to her daughter, she chided her gently. "I raised you with better manners. Aren't you going to introduce us, Dani?"

"Mom, this is my partner, Charlie Crews," Reese looked embarrassed as she introduced them. "Crews, my mother Nazreen Reese."

Charlie took the hand being offered. "It's my pleasure to meet you, Ma'am," he began. "What a lovely name. Does it have a meaning in Farsi?"

"It means wild rose," Dani's mother replied. "My father was a horticulturalist. Roses were his favourite."

"So he named you after one. How lovely."

"Yes, it could have been much worse. I could be called Pomegranate."

"I'm sorry, what?" Crews asked, not sure of the word.

"It's a fruit, Crews," his partner explained, seeing his confusion. "I'm surprised that with your fruit fetish you haven't encountered one yet."

"It's a heavenly fruit, Charlie, full of these rich dark juicy seeds inside." Nazreen provided him with more information. "I just bought that we'll have for desert. You'll love them. They're…."

"Don't encourage him, Mom!" Reese interrupted rudely. "He'll never shut up about them if he likes them."

She went over to the fridge, opened it up and brought out a juice jug. "I'm starved. What's for dinner? " Charlie watched her as she poured herself a glass of juice, ignoring him "We can't stay too long .Mom. We've got to get back to work. Where's Dad?"

Her mother gave her a pointed look. "We have a guest here, Dani. You can offer Charlie a drink."

"He's not a guest. He invited himself." Reese groused as she poured another glass, giving him a dirty look as gave it to him. He smiled back innocently, knowing she hated when he did that. She glowered back at him. Her mother watched them, interested in their interaction.

"No, I didn't." Charlie needled her. "I definitely remember your mother inviting me." He watched with interest as her glowered turned into a glare. Or was it a scowl?

"She did not." Reese was definitely glaring at him now. "You charmed her into it, just like you charm every woman you meet."

"Are you saying you think I'm charming Reese?" Charlie baited her, waiting for the inevitable explosion. He loved to see her getting worked up. A flush would work its way up her lovely face, her eyes would start sparkling dangerously and he could practically see the steam coming out of her ears. A mad Reese was a delight to behold.

"You're…you're.." started his partner when an unfriendly voice behind them interrupted loudly.

"Rose, here are the tomatoes you… What the hell are you doing here, Crews?" The three of them quickly turned around to find another glaring Reese standing in the sliding doorway.

Once again, Charlie found himself surprised in the Reese household at the unexpected sight of Jack Reese, wearing a cheesy white kitchen apron with the caption "Kiss the Cook!" in bold red letters that matched the red flush that was working up his face. It also matched the tomatoes he was holding in his left hand while his right hand held a plate of the delicious smelling barbequed meat that they had seen outside. His glare matched the look that his daughter had been giving him a minute ago. Obviously, she took after her father in the angry facial features department.

"Obviously, you know one another, dear," his wife remarked astutely, as she whisked the meat and tomatoes out of his hands. "I invited him. Thought it was time we met our daughter's partner."

"Nice to see you, Jack," Charlie said jovially, pretending to be oblivious to Reese's glare. "Love the apron." He smiled happily as Reese snatched the protective piece of material off his front and threw it onto a counter behind him, still glaring.

"Dear, can you open this for me?" Mrs. Reese distracted her husband, passing him a glass jar. He took it from her, moving over to a draw to look for something. Dani's mother motioned them towards the dining table where the evening meal was laid out.

Another surprise awaited him. He figured that Jack Reese was a meat and potatoes man. About the meat he hadn't been wrong. But it wasn't the expected T-bone steak. Instead it was more of a spicy kebab thing. And there wasn't a baked potato in sight. Instead he found a couple of different rice dishes laid out, various vegetable dishes he didn't recognize, a salad he did recognize, a dish of cucumbers and tomatoes (the same ones that came from the garden he wondered) and some white cubes (he later found out it was feta cheese), some flat steamy puffy bread (Nan, his hostess informed him) and assorted condiments. And some interesting looking fruit in an unusual ceramic bowl.

'Wow, this is really good," he complimented his hostess a few minutes later as he happily tasted his way through the delicious meal. "You're a wonderful cook."

Mrs. Reese laughed. "You've got the wrong person. My husband is the cook in the family. I just cut up the cucumbers and tomatoes when I got home from work." She laughed again at the surprised look that he gave her husband who was busy eating and trying to glare at the same time. "And he grew all the vegetables we're eating tonight. They're organic."

"Wow." Charlie found himself surprised again. He found himself staring at Jack Reese.

"Oh for Pete's sake, Rose, I grow a few vegetables." Reese grumbled. "It's not like I'm supplying the whole US of A with produce!" He glared towards Crews as he caught him staring.

"No, just your family," his wife reached over to kiss him. "And I love you for it." She smiled lovingly at him. Reese's face lost the glare as he smiled back at her. The glare returned as he turned around and caught Crews staring at them.

Charlie sat watching them, feeling kind of bemused. This wasn't exactly what he had expected when he had finagled an invite to the Reese's home for supper. Definitely not what he was expecting. He turned to look at his partner. She was sitting watching her parents with an expression he couldn't interpret.

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Driving away from the Reese home, Charlie sat lost in thought. Jack Reese at home was certainly a different person than the man who had yelled and threatened him in Lieutenant Davis' office. Different from the man on the phone he had talked to.

He turned to look at his partner. She was driving, all her concentration on the road. But she turned to give him a look when she felt him staring.

"What?" she snapped.

"Nothing."

"Why aren't you gushing about the pomegranates?" she wanted to know. "Have you finally met a fruit you didn't like?"

He didn't answer her. She turned her head to look at him. He had his thinking look, the one he got when he was trying to fit all the pieces together. She knew what he was thinking about.

"You're mother isn't what I expected." he finally said.

"What where you expecting," she wanted to know. "Let me guess. Some little Muslim woman behind a veil, afraid of her husband and having no opinions of her own."

"Well, I guess I might have got that idea after you told me that your father had forbidden you to talk Farsi in the house." Crews pointed out. "And after you told me your father was mean."

"Yeah, he forbid it. But my mother ignored him and went on talking Farsi to me, usually when he wasn't there. " Reese grudgingly admitted. "Which was a lot of the time."

"Considering that he doesn't like Farsi spoken, he sure seems to like the food."

"My Dad has always liked good food. And to cook."

"And he doesn't act very mean with your mother." Crews pointed out.

"No, she's the one person that seems to bring out the best in him." Reese sighed. "But I've also seen him act like a bastard towards her, too."

She kept driving, staring ahead lost in her own thoughts about her parents. Crews found himself thinking about his own parents. Had his father been any better? No, he could remember his father being a down-right bastard towards his mother on more than one occasion. And at the end… No, don't go there. He switched his train of thought.

"Why are you so pissed off at your father, Reese?" He focused his attention back on his partner. She seemed to tense up at his question.

"Who says I'm pissed at him?" she snapped waspishly.

"Aren't you?"

She glared at him briefly, then turned back to watch the cars in front of her.

"Was he mean towards you?" Crews continued his questioning. "Was he physically abusive? Mentally? Verbally?" He kept looking at her, waiting for her to reply. She kept driving, not saying much.

"Did he abuse your mother?"

"Oh for Pete's sake, Crews!" Reese snapped. "He did none of those things. Does it look like my mom is an abused woman? Does she look afraid of him?"

"Well, no, but you can't always tell at first," Crews pointed out. "You know that."

Reese sighed. She just wished he'd drop all of this but she had come to know him in the last six months Charlie Crews didn't give up easily once he got an idea in his head.

"So why don't you get along with your Dad?" Crews asked.

"Alright, alright! I'll tell you," Reese relented, knowing that he wouldn't stop until he had an answer from her. "Will you stop with the thousand questions!"

"Questioning is the first step towards enlightenment, Reese," Crews explained.

"It's the first step in getting your head bashed in!" Reese threatened. "Do you want to know or not?"

"Yes."

"My Dad and I got along real well when I was a little girl," Reese started, "I was Daddy's little girl, doing everything I could to please him but…" She stopped talking, staring at the traffic light ahead, lost in her thoughts.

"but…" Crews prompted.

"but Daddy's little girl got older and started having thoughts of her own and all of a sudden, I stopped pleasing Daddy." She fell silent again, crossing on the green light.

"And…." Crews prompted again.

"And nothing, Crews," Reese sighed, "He tried to control my life, make decisions for me. When I applied to join the force he had a fit. Tried to forbid me from joining."

"That must have gone over well."

Reese gave one of her stares. "There were some words exchanged that day," she commented dryly.

"Hmmm…"

"What?" Reese wanted to know.

"Maybe he didn't want his daughter to be exposed to all the darkness that comes along with the job." Charlie wondered.

Reese was astonished. "Don't tell me you're siding with him?" she demanded angrily. "If you had a daughter, would you try to prevent her from becoming a cop?"

"I don't know, Reese," Crews paused to think over the situation. "If it spared her some of the grief I've experienced on the job, maybe I would."

"I don't believe it," his partner fumed. "What a sexist thing to say!"

"Is it?" Crews countered. "If you had a child, wouldn't you protect them from some of the nasty things that happened to you on the job?"

Dani opened to mouth to snap at him when the meaning of his words penetrated. Would she let her daughter, if she ever had one, to go through all the shit she had gone through. Not if she could have prevented it. "No, I guess not." she grudgingly admitted.

Silence descended as both partners sat lost in their own thoughts. Charlie was the first to break it. He felt he owed her the truth. They sat waiting at a red light when he spoke. "About 4 months after the Bank of L.A. hold-up, your father's favourite charity, the one that he yearly contributed two hundred and fifty dollars to, received an anonymous donation of four million dollars."

Reese turned around to stare at him in astonishment. Then she quickly glanced in the mirror as she headed the car over to an empty spot by the sidewalk. She slid to the curb, cut the ignition and turned around to face him. "That could be a coincidence! Are you saying my father donated that money?"

"Maybe it was a coincidence but it was awfully big." Crews shrugged. "Maybe someone else had that kind of money lying around?"

"Do you have any proof that it was my father?" Reese started to grill him. "He didn't have that kind of money."

"No, but the guys who robbed the Bank of L.A did."

Reese wasn't convinced. "Crews, if doesn't make any sense. If my father was in on the heist, why would he give all that money up?"

"I don't know." Crews admitted slowly. He had thought this through many times but it had never made sense to him. The Jack Reese he had come to know was a total bastard. Or had been a bastard until tonight when he had seen another side of Jack Reese that he hadn't known existed.

"Reese, if I ask you a question, will you give me an honest answer?" he asked looking over at his partner who sat slumped behind the wheel, not looking at him. "Why did you get pissed off at Bobby that time in the elevator when he mentioned the Bank of L.A. shootings?"

For a minute he thought she wouldn't answer him. She quickly glanced at him, then turned back to stare ahead. Then she sighed. "It was a bad time in my life."

"What happened?" he asked softly, afraid to spook her.

"My mother left my father. She came to the school, got me and we went to stay with some people I didn't know. She was so upset. I had never seen her like that before." Reese stopped, as feelings and emotions from a time long ago came over her. "I kept asking her what was wrong. Where was my father? At first I thought that something bad had happened to my father. I thought that he was dead."

"I'm sorry, Reese." Charlie reached over and took her hand in his, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. "What happened next?"

"My father showed up a couple of days later. He tracked us down. I was so happy to see him." Dani remembered. She had been so relieved to see him and had flung herself at him, crying in joy. "Then my mother came in and started screaming at my father. Then he started yelling back at her."

She stopped talking as she remembered the fight that had ensued between them. "I think they forgot that I was in the room. She was yelling about the Bank of L.A. and how could he do it, and he was yelling that he had no choice. I don't remember much after that. I must have freaked out because the next thing I remember was being in a corner crying and the door slamming. My father was gone and my mother was sitting on the sofa crying her eyes out."

"I'm sorry, Reese." Charlie squeezed her fingers in sympathy.

Dani shrugged, embarrassed. She pulled her hand away. It felt cold without his fingers holding it. "Yeah, well, it was a long time ago.'

"What happened after that?" Crews prompted her.

Dani sighed. "He came back. She was holding me and suddenly he was there too, holding me, and I was crying, my mom was crying and then my Dad was crying too." She still remembered the sight of her father, who she had always thought of such a tough guy, crying in her mom's arms. Dani hadn't thought of that day for years but suddenly, it had all come back. "She forgave him, I guess, because the next thing I knew we were all in the car going back home. "

"And that's it?" Crews was curious. "Nothing else said about it?"

Reese shook her head. "No, I was so happy that things had gone back to normal that I let it go. I think I was afraid to find out what happened." She admitted, wondering why she hadn't persevered in finding out what had happened. She sighed unhappily, thinking about how easily she had gone back to her routine.

"You were 12 years old, Reese." Crews said watching her, an image of a young Dani in his mind, afraid that her parents were splitting up. He reached over and took her hand, surprised at how easily she let him. "At that age we don't see our parents as real people with flaws and problems. We need to see them as pillars of stability in our lives. "

She looked up at him, uncertainty in her eyes. "I'm not that little girl any more, Crews."

"I know." He smiled the smile, the one that made her heart quicken.

"I want to find out what happened." she stated with certainty. "If my father was involved with what happened to you, I want to find out why."

"We will, Reese," Crews declared with confidence, squeezing her fingers. He wouldn't stop until he found out why he had lost a big chunk of his life.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------"He's not what I expected."

Jack Reese stopped washing the dishes to look at his wife, who was slowly drying a pot beside him. He turned back to the pot he had been scrubbing, scowling at the burnt on rice. "What did you expect?"

"I don't know," his wife admitted slowly. "Maybe someone a bit more bitter and jaded." She sighed. "But he's not. He seems happy about such little things as a good meal and fruit. And he's happy being with Danni." She sighed again.

Reese scrubbed furiously at the pot's bottom but didn't say anything.

"He should be angry and furious," his wife continued. "but he seems …. I don't know, happy."

"Well, he's not happy all the time," Reese muttered. "Believe me, I've seen him not too happy."

"Did you see the way they were looking at one another?"

"What do you mean?" Reese abruptly stopped working on the pot to stare at his wife. "There's nothing going on there. Nothing!"

His wife looked back at him incredulously. "Were you not at the same supper table tonight with them?" she asked unbelievingly. "There is definitely something going on." she stated.

"You're imagining things!" Reese exclaimed, going back to working on the pot. "Danni thinks he's a fruit cake. He drives her crazy most of the time."

His wife looked at him. "I think that she doesn't know how to deal with him sometimes but I think she likes him more then she lets on." Rose informed her husband.

He snorted in disbelief. You're the crazy one!" he told her. "And why did you decide to invite him for supper tonight? That was a stupid thing to do. He's not going to let this go."

"I was curious," Rose Reese admitted slowly. "And I know he's not going to let it go. But Jack don't you think we owe him an explanation. He was robbed of 12 years of his life. I think he deserves to know why. We can't change what happened to him but we can at least give him the truth." She reached for his hand, pulling it away from the pot he was working on.

Reese stared at her, a look of almost despair on his face. " I don't know what to do, baby," he admitted.

"Oh, Jack."

She wrapped her arms around her husband. He leaned his head against her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her waist, holding her tight against him. She was the best thing that had happened to him in his long screwed-up life. He had made a vow many years ago that he would never let anything happen to her. So far he had managed to keep it but he wondered if his luck had almost run out.

The End, for now.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Sorry that its taken me so long to finish this up. The creative well seems to have dried up for now so I'm wrapping it up at this point. Hopefully, it will return sometime in the future. Thank you all for reading my story.


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